


Revenge Served Cold

by Marwana



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, References to Norse Religion & Lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 23:16:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13468668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marwana/pseuds/Marwana
Summary: He had been cursed, and no one of importance seemed to notice. His parents, his brother did not seem to care. His beloved, his friends all slain because they tried to help him. He would get free of his prison, and those who cursed him would get their comeuppance. After all, revenge is a dish best served cold. And he had been locked away to plan his revenge for centuries.





	Revenge Served Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: not mine

At the time he did not know who dared to curse him when his back was turned. At the time, he did not care. He was too busy fighting against the foreign magic. It took him less than a day to figure out that the curse used his own magic to reach its goal – whatever that may be. The harder he struggled, the more of his magic he tried to throw against it, the stronger the curse’s hold on him became. It took him five moon cycles to get himself imprisoned entirely inside his own body, mind and magic.

And no one noticed, except those who cast the spell in the first place. He had been absent for five moon cycles and no one had missed him. He ‘returned’ completely different and no one of importance noticed; not his brother Thor, not his loving mother Frigga, not his omniscient father Odin. They were all too absorbed with their own lives.

The warriors three and the lady Sif noticed, but it had not been hard to recognise her desires suddenly pushed upon him. And though it was clear to him that she had managed to ruin whatever spell she had been trying to cast upon him, it was also clear to him that she did not care that she had imprisoned him and was forcing him to act so unlike himself.

Before he had been quiet, serious, and studious. He only spoke when he believed he had something to say. She forced him to act arrogant, brash, and without honour. She made him act jealous of Thor, made him seemingly desire for a throne he had never wanted.

It did not take long for his actual friends, the servants and the commoners to notice. The first to notice was one of his servant girls; she had been bright, observant, a good friend, and she had been the first to be struck down when she had tried to get to Eir. He had mourned her loss as well as he could.

Other servants noticed not long after; he had always been polite and ready to start small talk with them if they were in no hurry. They had been aware he had been locked away for five moons in his own rooms and came out changed. He was no longer willing to stop to chat, or be polite, or treated them with decency. Those who tried to help him were either slain, sent away in disgrace or otherwise taken care of.

The commoners were just as quick to notice. He was a prince of the people, always ready to listen, always ready to give advice or to assist. Some of his best friends were commoners; young soldiers, young seidkonur, and other young people he had been able to connect with and who were willing to put up with the spare to the throne. They tried to gain the attention of Thor, always stopped by the warriors three or Sif, they tried to gain the attention of Frigga, but she was rarely seen in public without a legion of men to guard her, and they tried to gain the attention of one of the palace healers. The healers just ignored the commoners.

So the lowly commoners started rioting in an attempt to get the needed attention. They did not destroy anything of importance, nor did they destroy anything that could not be repaired easily. But their riot was violently broken up, and he lost nearly all his friends in a single swoop as most rioters were killed or locked away.

His lovely Sigyn was the last to notice, which he did not blame her for as she had been away to Vanaheim to visit her extended family for a period of seven years. He loved her, his little Vanir librarian, with everything he had; she was his light in the shadows, his heart, his everything. They had her executed for treason when he had been forced to stay elsewhere because Sif desired it.

He had never hated anyone as much as he hated them as soon as he heard about their latest deed. He was going to kill everything single one of them as soon as he was free of his cage.

**oOoOoOo**

Sif’s desires made him do terrible things. She was saving herself for Thor, but her desire for several men forced _him_ to spread his legs for them. He added rape to their list of crimes.

Her desire for attention and to see him humiliated forced him to cut off her hair. Odin All-Father – Oath-breaker, Liar – forced him to get her new golden hair, and other gifts. Her desires got his mouth sewn shut and his face mutilated.   
He removed Thor and Odin firmly of his list of family at their respective actions in this scheme of Sif; Odin for forcing him to get the hair and not even bothering to ask him for his side, and Thor for holding him down as his mouth was sewn shut. Had they just tried to ask him, he would have been freed of his prison.  
He added mutilation and humiliation to their list of crimes.

Her desire for children saw him changed into odd shapes and his children ripped away from him.   
The only good thing was that it forced him to learn how to control his changeling abilities. It also made him remove Frigg as his last family member as she did nothing as his beloved children – he truly loved them, they were only innocents in a cruel and heartless world – were ripped away. He added abuse of children to their list of crimes.

He managed to twist her desire for the safety of children to conquer Niflheim for his Hel, to numb Fenrir against the pain of having a sword in his mouth, to protect Sleipnir against both the weight of Odin on his back and to protect him against damage done during his job as a common war horse, and to keep Jormungandr warm when he was forced into the cold and dark waters of Midgard.

But he also learned to work with her desires. Her desire to become the greatest warrior the nine realms had ever seen saw him train more and more to become stronger, faster, and more deadly than he had thought he would become. He could easily best some of the strongest warriors Asgard had, and they would never know. Her desire for him to be seen as weak made him take on other shapes as he trained, joined hunting expeditions or defeated warriors from all over the nine realms in the arena.

Her desire to please her mother’s wish to have a sorcerer in the family saw him study more and more types of magic. He studied and studied, until the Asgard library had nothing more to teach him. Her desire to travel made it easy for him to seek knowledge elsewhere. He used her desire to see if he could find a way to end his own imprisonment. He never found the solution as it was likely that she ruined a spell that had another goal, but it did not take long before he was one of the strongest sorcerers. He had the needed motivation, after all, and her desires made him go without sleep for years if needed.

Her desire to protect Thor made it easy for him to learn everything about the other realms. Their inhabitants – both sentient and not – could kill him. Their cultures could force him to face the consequences of his actions. Their languages could be used to trick him into situation that would humiliate him. Their food and water could leave him poisoned. Their terrain could leave him hurt.

Her desires saw him hurt, humiliated, raped, abused, mutilated, friendless, and without power time and time again, but he kept on learning, becoming stronger, faster and more deadly. It sharpened his tongue, it made him knowledgeable of the other realms, and it would help him wage war against Asgard if needed. He would get free of her curse, and he would kill them all.

**oOoOoOo**

He was half a century into his imprisonment when he figured out that the warriors three and Sif were not the only ones who knew about the curse placed upon him. It was just a small comment, said in passing, but it made his hatred grow.

He had been travelling with Thor, the warriors three and Sif towards the Bifröst to travel towards Alfheim – the idiots wanted to slay the dragon that was tormenting some village there. He had been travelling at the very back of the group – though his rank as second prince would have seen him travelling next to Thor, but Sif _desired_ that spot for herself and not to see him – when they had arrived. Heimdall greeted most of them politely, he was as always ignored.

He did not know if Heimdall believed him to be too far away to hear anything – he had long since hidden himself away from the guardian’s sight – or if he just did not care.

The golden-eyed guard had turned towards his sister and had softly stated, “try to get him to shed his enchantment that hides him away from me.”  
Sif had looked down at her brother, confused, before her eyes had widened and she had turned almost discretely towards him, “I will try. We can never know what tricks he is up to, after all.”

He had had no choice but to act as if he had not heard anything. She had no desire for him to know after all. Luckily for him, she also desired to know how he had hidden himself as she too desired not to be seen by her own brother, the guard who saw all. Also luckily for him, she had no desire to ask him.

But the fact that Heimdall had known about the curse she had placed upon him from the very beginning could mean two things. The first was that Heimdall had told the All-Father as he should have. That would mean that his _father_ had known for years and had not seen it necessary to free him. The second was that Heimdall had not told his father, and had committed treason against both his king and the second prince.

Either way, he had added Heimdall to his list of people he would get his revenge on.

**oOoOoOo**

Time went by, as time was wont to do, until the day Odin was going to crown Thor king.

It was his firm believe that Thor was not ready to become king. He lacked nearly everything a good king needed, and he was far too arrogant. Luckily for him, Sif also did not desire to see Thor as king as it would mean that she could no longer spend the majority of her time with him. Kings were rather busy after all.

He used her hatred against and desire to see them dead to lure the frost giants into the palace. Personally, he had nothing against the Jotnar. Their culture was fascinating, he could not blame them for wanting the Casket of Ancient Winters – the heart of their realm – back, and he respected their will to live. He had, however, no wish to go to Jötunheim with a bunch of hot-headed, short-sighted warriors who had no more brains in their heads than he had in his elbow. So he used her desire to keep Thor safe to try and stop them from going to Jötunheim.

And that was where everything went wrong. He had known that frost giants could cause frost bite, but _he had not known that he was one of them_. The shock he got when he touched the Casket of Ancient Winters and was told by Odin that he was adopted, that he was the monster children were warned against, caused something inside of him to break.

Every good sorcerer knew that they had to know extremely well whet their identity was to become a capable seidr user. The fact that his identity had just changed not only shook his world, it also loosened the hold of the curse on him slightly.

It was enough to deny the return of Thor, but it was not enough to stop them from leaving. Nor was it enough to stop him from slaying Laufey, or to stop him from his attempt to destroy Jötunheim with the Bifröst. He was almost glad that Thor destroyed the Bifröst before he could fully destroy the realm. The destruction of Jötunheim would have led to the destruction of the nine realms, but Sif did not know this, or care to know this.

The fact that her hold on him had loosened also did nothing against her desire to see him gone. So he let go. He watched impassively as Asgard grew smaller, and Thor’s cries for him grew softer. Thor had never cared before, why should he start now?

**oOoOoOo**

He fell for what felt like eternity. He managed to use the time to restore his sense of identity. He cared not that he was Jötun. He cared not that he was adopted. He had long since released his ties to those who claimed to be family. The fact that he was of another specie did nothing to change his love for his children, nor did it change his love for his slain friends and beloved Sigyn.   
Releasing the ties to being an Asgardian was easy. Asgard had never done anything for him, after all.

He kept on falling, even after he had restored his identity. His surroundings changed from the stars and nebulas of the nine realms towards darkness and cold. So cold, he was forced to release his Aesir form in favour of his Jötun form. It mattered little to him, and he spent the time learning how to conjure ice without the use of magic.

His surroundings once again changed, until new stars, and planets and nebulas appeared before him. He changed back to his Aesir form, and tried to use the time and distance to carefully and gently get rid of the hold Sif’s curse had on him.

He had managed to free himself partially by the time he smashed painfully hard onto something that appeared to be a large asteroid.

It did not take him long to figure out that he was not alone. It also did not take long for him to recognise the Chitauri when they appeared, nor did it take him long to recognise Thanos the Mad Titan when he was brought in front of him.

He was completely in over his head in his current state, and he knew it. He was surrounded by an army of Chitauri, and Thanos was known for being near undefeatable. The curse and Sif’s desire would not let him fight at full strength as they both still forced him to appear weak and to try and get himself killed. His magic was both partially depleted from his attempt to free himself and used to hold himself prisoner in his own body and mind.

**oOoOoOo**

He was tortured worse than ever before, but his true self did not break. Not when they ripped is mind apart, not when they removed every piece of his body, not when they raped him, and not when they forced him to watch the death of his friends and his beloved Sigyn as he had imagined it at the time again, and again. He screamed, and he cried, but he did not beg nor did he stop fighting back in any way he could.

He had known of the Chitauri, but he had not known about them. So he learned whatever he could. He learned of their hive mind, he learned of their technology, and he learned of their weaknesses. And he studied the Other whenever he came to torture and hurt him.

He did the same with Thanos. He studied the Titan’s magic and the way he used it crudely. He learned of his strength, and his obsession with Death and Hel. His beloved Hel. He vowed to keep him far away from her. He also learned about the infinity stones, and the gauntlet.

He had no idea how much time had gone by before the Other, and therefore Thanos, learned about the curse placed upon him. He had also no idea how much time had gone by before they had managed to twist the curse to add _their_ desires to the desires of Sif he already had to carry with him.

On command of their desires he created a sceptre containing one of the infinity stones. On command of their desires he went to Midgard to gain control over a second infinity stone: the Tesseract. And on command of Sif’s desire, he went to Midgard to conquer it and to kill Thor’s Midgardian love.

But they all saw him as weak, and showy so he used that against them. He did everything they wanted of him, but with as much public as possible. He made sure that all the right people knew about the goals the desires of others forced upon him so they could stop him. He gave all the needed hints, and all the motivation the group that called themselves the Avengers needed.

And they came as he had planned. They defeated him, they defeated the Chitauri the way he had shown the archer, and they closed the portal he had so obviously placed on top of the tower of the metal man in the middle of one of the biggest cities he could find. He made sure the two infinity stones were no longer in the hands of Thanos. He even managed to goad the shapeshifting Berserker in helping him in getting rid of at least the control Thanos had had over him. The pain had been worth that.

Sadly enough, Sif’s curse had still some hold on him and he had not the time nor the magic free to get rid of the last remnants. It meant her desires kept him from appearing anything but weak and submissive and it meant that he could not warn the mortals of the arrival of Thanos. Her desires also forced him to remain still as Thor placed him in cuffs and muzzled him.

He closed his eyes in despair as he realised that Thor meant to use the Tesseract to return to Asgard. Asgard, where Odin ruled. Odin, who was arrogant and would not listen to him.

**oOoOoOo**

He was locked away as he believed he would be. No one listened to him, not Thor nor the woman who claimed to be his mother came to visit him. There was no one he could tell about Thanos.

His magic was bound and siphoned away to strengthen the wards around the palace. He was hardly fed but he was relatively safe and he could keep up with his training as no one paid attention to him.  
He used the magic he did have and could spare to continue chipping away at the remnants of the curse on him. But it was still so very slow going.

He had no idea how much time he spend locked away in the dungeons of Asgard, and he hardly cared. Time had no meaning to him ever since he had been imprisoned in his own body. He could only prepare for the arrival of Thanos, whose attack was inevitable.

He barely noticed it when his magic was no longer drained away. Nor did he notice it when he was brought more food. He did notice when the soldiers came to place him in chains and to muzzle him. It seemed he was to brought before the Court.

The soldiers dragged him out of his cell and towards the large throne room. Odin sat proudly on Hlidskjalf, Gungnir in his hand. Frigg was seated to the left of him on her smaller stool, Thor was standing to his right. The warriors three and the lady Sif were standing to Thor’s right. Eir and her healers were standing on the left of Frigg. All the important generals, guild leaders, council members and nobles were seated around the royal family.

He had been dragged in front of the Thing.

He was forced to kneel submissively in front of them all; both by the guards who dragged him in front of them and by Sif’s desire. He was also forced to smirk maniacally with crazed eyes by Sif’s desire to have him appear as the deranged madman she had always believed him to be. Not that they could see his smirk with the muzzle blocking his mouth and his long hair and submissive posture shielding his eyes.

He could feel the sneers and hateful looks sent his way. He could hear the degrading remarks and slurs said about him. He did not care. They were _nothing_ to him.

Privately he wondered if this was just the formality before his head would be removed from the rest of his body.

“Loki Odinson,” Odin boomed loudly, “you are brought in front of the Thing to face the consequences of your actions against Asgard, Jötunheim and Midgard.”  
The jeers and sneers died down as people settled for the show that was no doubt to follow.

“Head healer Eir,” Odin continued as silence fell,” please check the prisoner’s mental and physical health to determine if he is of sound mind to face the consequences.”  
He remained as impassive as Sif’s desire let him be when the healer made her way towards him as bid and her seidr touched him for the first time in centuries. He had not needed to visit the healer since he had been cursed. Sif did not desire to see him healthy, she did not care for him after all. He had used her desire to become the best to learn how to heal himself, so he had never needed Eir or her healers. They had failed him, after all.

He felt her seidr search him for wounds, either physical or mental and for any traces of foreign or malicious magic upon him. He felt her shock and horror as she came upon the curse upon him, and he felt her stumble away from him.

Murmurs spread at her foreign actions and he could feel the angry glares fall upon him.  
“Head healer Eir,” Frigg sounded worried, “what is your conclusion.”  
“The prisoner has been cursed a long time ago,” she stated shakily, her voice betrayed her horror and her distaste, “he has not been in control of his own actions for over seven centuries.”

His hatred for the five of them grew. He had been imprisoned by them for over half a millennium and not once had they thought to free him. Not once. He would not just kill them. He would _obliterate_ them.

Silence fell as her words registered.  
“Se-seven centuries?” one of the councilmembers whispered.  
That seemed to be the opening others needed to start shouting. Some doubted her words, some demanded to know who had cursed the second prince, some wanted to know how no one had noticed, others just wanted to know what it meant.

The sharp sound of Gungnir’s butt hitting the ground hard rang through the hall and silence fell.  
“Can you see who cursed him, what the curse did to him,” Odin wanted to know imperiously, “and can you remove it.”  
“I can feel two foreign sources of magic,” Eir stated, “one is recent and had been removed by the prisoner himself, the other is old and from someone on Asgard but it feels like a novice who has not used seidr since. I know not who has originally cursed him. The curse seems to have used his own magic against him, but it had largely been unravelled already. The prisoner-”  
“Stop referring to him like that,” Thor barked angrily, “if he had not been in control for centuries it means that he is not a prisoner, but still a prince and my brother.”  
“As my son says,” Odin said with a regal nod, “continue.”

He wished he could laugh. Did they really believe that he would accept them all back? After all they had _not_ done for him?

“The prince has been unravelling the curse for some time now, so it should be easy to remove,” Eir continued, “he should also know who cursed him, as the curse seems to have used the desires of the one who cast it upon him and enforced him to act upon said desires. That did not seem to be the intent of the caster, but the novice seems to have made a mistake while casting.”

“Remove it,” Odin commanded.  
He could feel Eir’s seidr once again as she helped him remove the last of the hold Sif’s desires had on him. He would finally be free. Free to get his revenge, and free to leave. He would get his children back, and bring them to Niflheim to help protect Hel from Thanos. The rest of the nine realms could burn for all he cared.

“What shall be done to the caster?” one of the generals asked.  
“How shall they be punished?” one of the guild heads added.  
“Have them locked away,” someone unknown to him proposed.  
“Have them cursed,” another added.  
“Banish them,” the first general said.

He felt the last of the curse’s hold leave him and his own seidr spread freely throughout his body, seeking to heal and to sooth. He felt stronger and more powerful than ever before and he could feel the bindings on him strain to contain his magic as his reserves started to heal and all of his seidr eagerly started to return to him. He straitened from his submissive position on the floor and rose until he was standing proudly and erectly in front of them all.

The bindings shattered loudly and the metal flew everywhere. He did nothing to shield them, though he easily could have. The muzzle melted away as if it had never been there.

Silence fell once again as he stalked forward. His prisoners garb melted away to make place for his regular armour, but without the symbols of Asgard or those belonging to the royal family. He no longer belonged to them. His green, green cape – so like the colour of Hel’s eye – flared out behind him. The twig he himself turned into a sword when he had been close to death appeared at his side. He had named it Haevatein, but later renamed it Laevatein.

He noticed grimly amused that Sif and the warriors three had started back slightly, but they still saw him as the weak prince they had always believed him to be. They did not fear him.

“No,” he stated flatly, “they belong to me.”  
“They?” Odin demanded to know. He had no idea what he looked like, but no one else dared to open their mouths.  
“Yes, they,” he continued regally, as he turned towards Thor’s companions, “Fandral the Dashing, Hogun the Grim, Volstagg the Valiant, the guard Heimdall, and the caster herself: the warrior Sif.”

Everyone turned towards them, shocked.  
“No,” Thor denied, “you lie. Tis but a trick.”  
He turned imploring eyes towards the four mentioned warriors at his side, but their lack of defence and the defiance in their faces showed their guilt. A wave of his hand and green sparks suddenly had all five of them – even Heimdall, who had not been present – on their knees in front of them. Their hands bound behind his back as his had been and their mouths gagged with heavy muzzles.

“I challenge all of you to hólmganga, though you are honourless” he continued with a snarl towards them as if he had not been interrupted, “which shall take place after you have paid the weregild owed to me, to every single servant and commoner whose life you have ruined when they tried to get me help, to the family of every single servant and commoner you have slain in an attempt to have your deeds hidden, to every single Jötun and Midgardian who got hurt, and to the families of those who have died because of your actions, and to me and the family of my beloved betrothed Sigyn when you had her slain for treason when she tried to bring Vanir healers to remove the curse.”

“No, brother,” Thor nearly begged, as if it was a fact, as if he was _weak_ , “you are not capable o-”  
“I am not your brother,” he hissed sharply as he turned towards him with narrowed, poison green eyes, “you are not my brother, nor are they my parents. I care not for the adoption, but for your lack of action.”

“You are the son of my hea-,” Frigg started to say.  
“If I were, you would have noticed how I was missing for over five moons when I was first cursed, you would have noticed how I had suddenly changed when I returned, you would have noticed the foreign curse on me like my servants and most of my common, seidr-less friends had,” he said darkly, “you would have stopped Odin _King_ and Thor _Prince_ as I was punished time and again for things I did not do. You would have stopped the nobles when I was deemed _egri_ for things I had no control over. And you would have stopped them when my young _children_ were deemed monsters and were cast out. You claim to love me, but you were so absorbed by your own life and pride that you failed to see the suffering right in front of you. No, you are no mother of mine, nor are you my brother.”  
Frigg started to weep, and Thor moved to the left to comfort her.

He turned to Odin, his eyes sharp and his face indifferent, “Heimdall knew of the curse, which has let me to believe that he either committed treason and did not tell you. Or he told you, and you did nothing. I hope for you it is the former, or I will happily start Ragnarök and kill you myself. Either way, I cast away the name Odinson, as you are not worthy to be my father.”

“You all owe me weregild for your negligence,” he said flatly as he looked around, “for the imprisonment no one noticed or no one cared to point out, for the rape you allowed, for the humiliation you caused, for the mutilation you did nothing to stop, for the harm to my family – both my betrothed and my children. Not that it would stop me from remembering the horrors, bring my beloved or my friends back from the dead, nor will it heal my children.”

“You have one moon cycle to send my share of the weregild to Niflheim, where my daughter Hel reigns,” he ordained the Thing, “you have just as much days to retrieve everything Asgard has ever gained through me while I had been imprisoned by the curse. That includes Mjölnir, Gungnir, Sif’s hair, the Tesseract and all other treasures you have gained through me.”  
Chaos reigned as his words, and Odin did nothing to stop it. It was well within his rights to demand it all, even the throne of Asgard should he wish.

“Silence,” he roared, followed by a green flare of magic that forced everyone – even Odin King, Frigg Queen, and Thor Prince – to be silent. They would be still and silent and listen as he had been forced to do for seven long centuries.  
“Not a single one of you had ever done anything for me,” he hissed out, “I could easily demand the head of everyone present for insults at my address. I could just as easily demand the throne and the crown of Asgard. I will not, as I do not care to rule. I never have.”

“This is not a threat, you have no choice,” he said as he towered over them all, even the royals he had once called family, “you will give me what I am owed, or I will take it. With violence if needed. The common people of Asgard have always preferred me. One of the lights they light on the day of the remembrance of the riots my friends started in an attempt to gain attention to my plight is for me. The royal colours that are most visible, are mine. The royals from the other realms have always preferred my methods over Thor’s, ambassadors have always chosen to deal with me.”

“One moon cycle,” he repeated darkly, “or I will end you all.”

He once again turned towards the five bound in front of him.  
“You have seven days to arrange the weregilde you owe me and those I named, and to make sure your affairs are in order,” he told them,  his eyes flashing with the hatred he felt towards them, “the hólmganga I challenge all of you too will start on the morning of the eighth day as the sun rises. I will defeat you one by one, until all of you are completely _obliterated_. I will have you removed from history, as if you were never there, and your deeds against me will be as refiled as the Jötun you hate so much.”

He turned around and walked away, only to stop at the entrance of the hall to loudly repeat, “seven days before the traitors’ hólmganga, one moon cycle for the rest of you. I suggest you start collecting the weregilde.”

He teleported away, leaving behind chaos that could finally explode now that he had removed his influence upon the others, and five bound traitors he had wanted to kill for centuries for their actions against him.

He wondered what the chaos would be like if they ever found out what they would be up against.  
_He_ was only the beginning, after all.


End file.
